Before I Go
by TripleC Squared
Summary: Kuja's thoughts at deaths door.


I should have hated him.

I had every reason to loath the coming of my replacement.

But I didn't.

Not when the tiny infant, so fragile and new, had gazed at me with such adoration. Or when the toddler dogged my heals and stole into my bed at night, scared of the shadows, or of the silence, or of something only he could see, something that I could obviously protect him from.

I had never hated the little bundle of joy that Garland had thrust into my life.

Perversely, I was grateful for it at the time. I had never been needed by someone before, this little creature needed me.

But at the same time I had had to deal with an entirely new emotion, though I had neither name nor understanding for it; Love.

Love of the small creature who adored me, love of the tiny heart-beat pressed close against my chest in sleep, complete, total, unselfish love.

Garland hadn't known how to handle it. He never knew how to deal with the Angel gene he had bread into me and this new little mite. The emotions that the rest of the Genomes were almost nonexistence, I, and now this tiny creature, were both…for lack of a better word…living souls. And for some reason, so desperately attached to one another.

Lust, Garland could have understood, he was a man, and he understood lust. But what was between myself and the child was not lust by any stretch of imagination…So Garland tried to destroy it. Because he failed to understand how important it was.

A week of torment, to try to make me forget…to make me lose this undocumented emotion. But Garland did not understand what he was fighting with, neither, I think, did I.

The entire event cumulated with me standing with tears streaming down by face, arms wrapped tightly around the child. I can remember the event like yesterday, down to every word and touch. I've held the memory so close all these years, my last memory of goodness.

"Kuja…" the little one reached for my cheeks, puzzled, frightened by whatever had hurt his favorite person… "Kuja, All better." A silent, sunny kiss, bestowed with the grand magic that I had always used to make his ouches better.

If anything, his affection made me cried harder, my mind bent nearly to breaking by the powerful Magics of Pandemonium.

"Kuja…" The child frowned, his little eyes puzzled by my display, his tail wrapping firmly around my wrist as I knelt on the floor, weeping.

"Broken, broken, little glass shards at the bottom of the well, shiny pretty pieces…all catching the light…"I wept softly, clinging to the baby as if my soul would evaporate the moment I let him go. "No more, no more…I won't let him, not at all…"

The frightened toddler squirmed slightly, reaching up a patting my cheek.

"I won't let him have you, never, I won't let him turn you into shiny pieces," I remember the thought hitting me then, the strange determination that struck me. "He won't have you, Zidane, I won't allow it, ever…ever…"

And I ran, and in running, I changed everything, for the tiny, warm person whom I had grown so very fond of that I'd held out against the torment for mere memories of the tiny blue eyes and the soft, warm arms around my neck. I fled, and in fleeing, I tossed Garland's plans for us to the winds. I didn't care. All that mattered was this little child, my precious brother.

I looked it up, after placing Zidane somewhere I thought he'd be safe, with people I was sure would care for him much better than I was able. Curious, and puzzled, still new to the world around me. I didn't know anything at that point; Gaia was a strange place full of strange things for me.

Zidane and I were brothers, by all intents and purposes, and it was nice to have a term to label it now. But it still puzzled me, how could they be brothers, when we had neither a mother nor father between us? But I had nothing to keep him in my heart, and now I knew he would be safe, so I allowed myself to forget, even thought it was by doom. I allowed Garland to use me, hoping the tiny life I had hidden would never be discovered and used as I was being used. Had I known then, some of the things I know now, I don't think I would have been able to regulate my brother to faded memories of kindness.

Garland would forever think that in the conditioning, I had suffered a temporary bout of Insanity and disposed of the toddler for fear of my own position in the grand scheme of things.

And Garland, stuck at the drawing board again, swore to never let his experiments mingle again. For it seemed to cause them to develop emotionally mutated. I still have to smile at his logic.

That wonderful gift I was given, being allowed to love, taught me something that all the other training in the world could not have.

Zidane, that child, that wonderful, willful, disobedient child, sits next to me down, his eyes downcast. I wish he wouldn't look so sad.

I know I am dying, little brother, and strangely enough I am glad. I am dying the way I want to, not the way Garland designed me to. I am dying, having saved you and your friends, though you seem determined to throw that sacrifice back in my face by following me into this death trap.

I did not live a good life, but now I think I will die a good death, farewell pnudan.

I love you.


End file.
